Post-Scriptum :  a 
medy  in  One  Act :  by 
ile  Augier:  Trans- 
ed  by  Barrett  H.  Clark 


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The  Post-Scriptum :  a 
Comedy  in  One  Act :  by 
Emile  Augier:  Trans- 
lated by  Barrett  H.  Clark 


Samuel  French :  Publisher 

28-30  West  Thirty-eighth  Street :  New  York 


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BY  SAMUEL  FRENCH 


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,2154 


EDMOND  GOT, 

Dean  of  the  Comedie-Frangaise. 
MY  OLD  FRIEND, 

We  have  arm  in  arm  made  our  careers  to- 
gether, aiding  each  other  on  the  way.  At  this  mo- 
ment as  we  are  nearing  the  end,  as  we  are  almost 
touching  the  goal,  I  think  it  well  for  us  to  show  our 
friendship  coram  populo,  and  by  way  of  doing  so, 
I  beg  you  to  accept  this  dedication  which  I  offer 
you 

with  all  my  heart, 

SMILE  AUGIER. 


860573 


THE  POST  SCRIPTUM 


PERSONS    REPRESENTED. 


M.  DE  LANCY 
MME.  DE  VERLIERE 
A  SERVANT 


SCENE  : — Paris. 
TIME: — The  present. 


THE  POST  SCRIPTUM 


SCENE  : — An  elegantly  furnished  room.  There  are 
two  entrances  at  the  back;  at  the  right  a  fire- 
place; center,  a  table. 

As  the  curtain  rises,  MADAME  DE  VERLIERE 
is  discovered  wearing  a  loose  gown,  seated 
by  the  fire-place,  cutting  the  leaves  of  a  book. 
M.  DE  LANCY  enters  a  moment  later,  right. 

LANCY.  (At  the  threshold)  I  beg  your  pardon, 
neighbor,  it's  I.  Please  don't  scold  your  maid — she 
kept  telling  me  you  were  at  home  to  no  one.  But 
I  told  her  that  a  landlord  was  no  one:  that  argu- 
ment succeeded.  Now,  must  I  go? 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.  It's  very  lucky  that  it  is 
you! 

LANCY.    Is  the  book  so  very  interesting? 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.  I  don't  know,  I'm  only  cut- 
ting it.  Now  you  are  here,  my  dear  Lancy,  you 
may  wait  with  me.  That's  what  I  am  doing. 

LANCY.  (Noticing  that  her  hair  is  powdered) 
Who?  Oh,  the  Carnival? 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.  Heavens,  no.  I  shouldn't 
think  of  being  powdered  so  early  for  the  ball. 

LANCY.    What  then? 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.  What  is  the  mystery,  you 
think?  I  can't  keep  secrets  from  you:  well,  I've 
had  an  Athenian  Water  hair-wash  this  morning, 
and  I  use  the  powder  to  dry  my  hair.  Now  are  you 

5 


6  THE  POST  SCRIPTUM. 

satisfied  ?  By  the  way,  thank  you  for  your  present. 
You  are  the  king  of  hunters  and  a  model  proprietor. 

LANCY.  You  are  possibly  right  as  to  the  first 
compliment,  but  the  second 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.  I'm  already  afraid ;  are  you 
thinking  of  raising  my  rent? 

LANCY.    Worse :  I  am  going  to  give  you  notice. 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.    Are  you  joking? 

LANCY.  All  my  courage  as  a  gentleman  and  a 
man  of  the  world  would  be  insufficient -to  tell  you; 
therefore  I  must  speak  as  a  business  man. 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.  Could  the  business  man  not 
wait  until  to-morrow? 

LANCY.  Impossible.  According  to  our  contract, 
six  months'  notice  is  required.  Now  the  fatal  term 
expires  to-day ;  to-morrow  you  enter  into  the  next. 
I  should  be  very  much  put  out 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.    You  are  a  frank  hunter. 

LANCY.    Woodsman,  if  you  like ! 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.  You  go  straight  to  the 
point. 

LANCY.    Possibly. 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.  "Possibly"  is  good!  May 
I  know  the  reason  for  this — ejection?  You  must 
have  a  reason,  I  imagine? 

LANCY.  And  an  excellent  one.  Have  you  time 
to  listen  to  me? 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.  I  might  have.  And  I  confess 
I'd  like  to  find  a  good  excuse  for  you,  for  I'd  be 
sorry  to  lose  you. 

LANCY.    I  warn  you,  it's  quite  a  story. 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.  Take  as  much  time  as  you 
like — if  you  can't  finish,  you  may  continue  to- 
morrow. 

LANCY.  (Sitting  down  by  the  table)  I'll  begin: 
left  an  orphan  at  the  age  of  twenty- four 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.  The  story  of  your  life? 
Then  why  pass  over  the  years  of  your  childhood? 

LANCY.     Well,  if  you  insist,  I'll  start  from  the 


THE  POST  SCRIPTUM.  7 

beginning,  the  way  Tristram  Shandy  does,  especially 
as  there  is  a  clock  connected  with  my  birth  —  as  with 
his. 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.    Good. 

LANCY.  Don't  be  afraid.  My  mother  often  told 
me  that  she  had  a  large  clock  in  her  room  —  with  a 
gong  —  and  the  moment  I  was  born  it  joyously  struck 
noon.  A  lucky  portent.  So  that  from  birth  I  have 
been  of  a  happy  and  humorous  disposition,  which 
age  has  not  yet  been  able  to  modify.  I  have  an 
inexhausitible  fund  of  energy  —  bad  for  melancholy. 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.  But  excellent  for  egotism. 
Take  care  ! 

LANCY.  Don't  believe  that  The  only  good  people 
are  the  healthy  ones.  You  certainly  should  know 
something  about  it,  you  who  cared  for  your  late 
husband. 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.    That's  true. 

LANCY.  Well,  at  the  age  of  twenty-four  I  was 
the  possessor  of  a  good-sized  fortune  ;  I  had  a  good 
name  - 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.  And  you  at  once  hastened 
TO  reduce  the  former  and  - 

LANCY.  Tarnish  the  latter?  Oh,  no.  My  time 
was  too  much  taken  up  with  hunting  to  allow  me  to 
do  anything  else.  I've  always  detested  the  sight  of 
a.  card. 


MME.  DE  VERLIERE.    Never  mind  the  details. 

LANCY.  Just  sufficient  to  make  my  point.  I  have 
spent  my  life  up  to  now  in  quest  of  the  ideal 
woman.  I  have  often  been  mistaken.  In  society, 
out  of  society,  I  have  carried  my  fruitless  search. 
Where,  where,  was  the  heart  that  would  give  itself 
freely,  without  afterthought  —  I  don't  bore  you? 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.    Oh,  no. 

LANCY.  Well,  I'll  be  brief.  Finally  I  had  passed 
the  age  when  a  man  marries  with  his  eyes  shut,  and 
I  could  look  forward  only  to  a  marriage  of  reason. 
It's  extremely  difficult,  you  know,  to  see  any  reason 


8  THE  POST  SCRIPTUM. 

why  I  should  marry!  But  at  last  I  think  I  have 
found  the  woman. 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.    I'm  very  glad  to  hear  it. 

LANCY.  One  moment !  I  have  not  yet  been  ac- 
cepted. 

MM.  DE  VERLIERE.  You  will  be.  I  don't  see  how 
it  can  be  helped :  you  are  charming,  in  spite  of  your 
infamous  methods — but  we  are  losing  sight  of  what 
you  first  said  to  me. 

LANCY.  On  the  contrary,  I  am  coming  to  that. 
t  As  a  bachelor,  I  could  be  quite  content  with  my 
%  one  floor,  but  the  moment  I  rise  to  the  position  of  a 
I  \married  man,  I  must  also  rise  to  the  next  floor. 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.  I  see.  You  wish  to  put 
Madame  de  Lancy  in  my  apartment? 

LANCY.     (Rising}     That's  it. 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.  I  forgive  you,  because  your 
motive  is  good.  Though  it  is  inconvenient  to  move. 
I'm  a  creature  of  habit,  and  I've  become  used  to  my 
place  here. 

LANCY.  (Leaning  on  the  back  of  MADAME  DE 
VERLIERE'S  chair)  You  won't  have  to  do  that: 
stay! 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.  But  what  about  Madame  de 
Lancy? 

LANCY.    She  can't  possibly  object,  so  long  as 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.    So  long  as ? 

LANCY.    You  change  your  name. 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.    What  do  you  mean? 

LANCY.  By  ceasing  to  be  known  as  Madame  de 
Verliere,  and  taking  the  name  of  Madame 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.  De  Lancy?  Heaven  forgive 
me,  but  I  think  you  are  proposing? 

LANCY.    To  tell  the  truth,  I  think  I  am ! 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.  (Rising)  How  long  it 
takes  you  to  come  to  the  point ! 

LANCY.  And  you  were  blaming  me  not  long  ago 
for  being  so  outspoken. 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.    (Standing  by  the  fire-place) 


THE  POST  SCRIPTUM.  9 

My  fault.  So  then,  I  am  to  be  your  partner  in  a 
marriage  of  reason?  Why,  you're  not  at  all  polite. 

LANCY.  Pardon  me,  we  must  get  down  to  defini- 
tions. What  the  world  calls  a  marriage  of  reason, 
is  a  marriage  in  which  neither  the  heart  nor  the  eyes 
are  consulted:  where  one  marries  a  woman  one 
wouldn't  ordinarily  care  to  have  as  a  sweetheart, 
where  ones  takes  her  forever — that  I  call  not  a 
marriage  of  reason,  but  a  madman's  marriage. 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.  Very  well;  your  statement 
needed  some  modification.  You  are  a  curious  man. 

LANCY.    In  what  way  ? 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.  In  every  way — the  way  you 
pay  court  to  me. 

LANCY.  How  do  you  know?  I've  never  paid 
court  to  you. 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.  There's  your  first  proof  of 
originality.  The  way  you  have  just  asked  me  to 
marry  you — why,  I'd  have  to  look  hard  to  see  in  you 
a  sighing  swain. 

LANCY.  Sighing  is  not  in  my  character.  If  you 
give  me  a  good  reason  why  I  should  sigh,  I  shall  be 
glad  to  do  so,  as  well  as  anyone. 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.  But  are  you  sure  you  love 
me? 

LANCY.    As  sure  as  that  I  breathe  and  live. 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.    I  had  no  idea  of  your  love. 

LANCY.  Nor  I.  If  anyone  had  told  me  of  it  a 
month  ago,  I  should  have  been  very  much  surprised. 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.  How  did  you  finally  know? 
I'm  surely  not  a  coquette  ? 

LANCY.  No,  you  are  not.  Well,  this  fire-place  is 
the  cause  of  it  all. 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.    Really? 

LANCY.  At  first,  of  course,  I  knew  you  only  by 
sight,  but  I  was  in  danger  of  never  really  knowing 
you  at  all,  for  your  mourning  would  have  kept  me 
away  from  you  always  if  that  good  fire-place  hadn't 
taken  to  smoking — and  opened  your  door  to  me. 


io  THE  POST  SCRIPTUM. 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.  And  it  still  smokes,  when 
the  east  wind  blows. 

LANCY.  I'll  make  a  note  of  it. — From  that  day 
on,  I  dreamed  of  nothing  but  further  repairs — a 
strange  dream  for  a  landlord.  That  should  have 
warned  me.  So,  one  thing  led  to  another,  and  I 
found  myself  here  in  your  apartment;  I  admired 
the  simplicity  in  which  you  lived  while  you  were 
mourning  your  husband — I  soon  began  to  feel  the 
effect  of  your  charming  personality.  When  and 
how  did  that  friendship  change  to  a  more  power- 
ful sentiment?  I  cannot  say.  But,  consider  that 
I  had  resolved  to  end  my  bachelorhood  soon, 
and  that  only  last  week,  I  heard  of  a  very 
advantageous  union  into  which  I  might  enter 
Well,  that  particular  one  inspired  me  with  disgust, 
and  I  somehow  felt  that  my  heart  belonged  entirety 
to  you.  During  the  past  week  I  have  been  worry- 
ing and  trying  to  make  up  my  mind  to  ask  you  tc 
marry  me — I  behaved  like  a  much  younger  and 
less-experienced  man.  Now,  it's  over  with,  and  I- 
tell  you,  I  am  not  sorry. 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.  (Going  up-stage  behind  the 
table)  My  poor  friend,  I  really  like  you;  you  are 
the  most  gallant  man  I  know. 

LANCY.     That's  a  bad  beginning. 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.  I  too  was  deceived  as  to  the 
appearance  of  our  "  friendship,"  and  I  am  not  con- 
scious that  I  have  in  any  way  encouraged 

LANCY.  I  displease  you — I  rather  suspected  it !  I 
should  have  said  nothing  at  all.  Well,  imagine  I 
haven't  spoken,  and  allow  me  my  corner  here  by 
the  fire-place. 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.  You  will  be  welcome  as 
long  you  wish  to  come. 

LANCY.    That  will  be  always. 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.    Ever  if  I  marry  again? 

LANCY.  Oh,  no.  You're  not  thinking  of  that, 
are  you  ? 


THE  POST  SCRIPTUM.  11 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.    What  if  I  did? 

LANCY.    Don't  say  that! 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.  You  must  know  of  it  some 
day. 

LANCY.  Really,  are  you — ?  No,  no,  that's  out 
of  the  question.  I've  never  seen  anyone  here  who 
could  possibly  be  thought  of  as 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.  Here,  no,  but  was  I  not 
telling  you  that  I  expected  someone  to-day? 

LANCY.    I  was  prepared  for  everything  but  that . 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.  Don't  look  so  desperate. 
All  of  my  heart  that  remains  for  me  to  dispose  of, 
you  have.  I  should  not  object  to  accepting  your 
offer  if  I  loved  no  one  else.  What  better  can  I  say? 

LANCY.  What  consolation  is  that?  Only  for 
my  wounded  pride.  It  needs  none.  I  should 
prefer  to  have  you  displeased  with  me,  and  have 
you  care  for  no  one  at  all.  You  might  at  least  have 
kept  that  secret  from  me!  If  you  think  you  are 
consoling  me ! 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.  No,  only  I  think  I  can  cure 
you.  In  a  matter  of  this  sort,  the  best  way  is  to 
have  it  over  with  as  soon  as  possible. 

LANCY.  Cure  me?  Then  you're  telling  me 
doctors'  lies?  I'm  not  so  simple  as  all  that.  I 
should  have  suspected  that  you  were  waiting  for 
someone — the  way  your  hair  was  fixed 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.    But,  I  tell  you 

LANCY.  Some  absent  beloved  one?  And  you 
chose  precisely  the  day  of  his  arrival  to  put  that 
flour  in  your  hair ! 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.  Now  allow  me  to  tell  you 
a  little  story.  (She  seats  herself  to  the  right  of 
the  table} 

LANCY.  (Sitting  at  the  opposite  side)  Two  if 
you  like.  You  may  well  be  proud  that  you  have 
quite  alarmed  me. 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.  Do  you  know  Madame  de 
Valincourt  ? 


12  THE  POST  SCRIPTUM. 

LANCY.    Her  husband  is  one  of  my  best  friends. 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.  Three  years  after  she  was 
married  she  contracted  typhoid  fever,  during  which 
her  hair  turned  white. 

LANCY.    Yes  ? 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.  Her  husband  adored  her. 
So  long  as  she  was  in  danger,  it  was  a  question 
of  whether  he  would  survive  her.  She  did  re- 
cover, as  if  by  a  miracle- 


LANCY.    Her  hair  turned  white- 


MME.  DE  VERLIERE.  Her  hair  turned  white,  and 
ever  since,  her  husband  spends  his  evenings  at  the 
club.  What  do  you  say  to  that? 

LANCY.    Well 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.  (Rising}  Well?  Do  you 
excuse  him? 

LANCY.  (Laughing)  To  a  certain  extent.  A 
fine  young  fellow  adores  a  brunette — she  suddenly 
becomes  a  pepper-and-salt  Eurydice.  She's  an- 
other woman. 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.  (At  the  fire-place)  You 
are  all  the  same !  Let  a  woman  be  good,  loyal, 
sincere — it  makes  no  difference :  it  is  the  tint  of  her 
hair  or  the  curve  of  her  neck  that  means  every- 
thing. Become  a  coquette,  a  flirt,  be  as  selfish  as 
you  like,  his  love  will  remain;  but  be  careful  of 
the  first  gray  hair,  the  first  line — good-by,  happi- 
ness !  "  I'm  very  very  sorry  "  he  will  say.  And  I 
pitied  you  not  long  ago ! 

LANCY.    Please — what  have  I  to  do  with  all  this? 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.  (Returning  to  the  table) 
And  you  make  excuses  for  Valincourt — you  would 
even  follow  his  example,  if  the  opportunity  arose. 
You  might  at  least  have  the  courage  of  your  con- 
victions. 

LANCY.  Let  us  try  to  be  reasonable:  are  you 
attacking  me  or  Valinccurt? 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.  You,  and  him,  and  your 
whole  sex.  I  am  attacking  that  disgusting  way 


THE  POST  SCRIPTUM.  13 

your  love  places  us  on  a  par  with  animals — some- 
where between  hounds  and  race-horses.  Is  that 
clear?  (She  returns  to  the  chair  where  she  was 
first  sitting,  near  the  fire-place) 

LANCY.  (Rising)  Very  clear.  Every  woman 
who  prides  herself  on  her  delicacy  of  feeling, 
objects  to  being  loved  for  her  beauty.  She  wants 
to  be  loved  only  for  her  soul. 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.     Ridiculous,  isn't  it? 

LANCY.  I  don't  say  that,  but  you  see  man  is  a 
brutal  creature,  who  loves  only  with  his  eyes. 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.    That  is  why  I  blame  him. 

LANCY.  Unfortunately,  that  is  a  natural  law  to 
which  both  sexes  are  subject,  yours  and  mine,  in 
spite  of  all  argument  to  the  contrary. 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.     How  infamous ! 

LANCY.  Now,  Madame,  tell  me  frankly:  if  you 
loved  some  one,  and  he  came  to  you  one  day 
maimed  and  crippled,  wouldn't  the  deformity  throw 
a  little  cold  water  over  the  warmth  of  your  affec- 
tion? 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.  You  know  very  little  about 
women,  my  friend!  When  we  love  a  man,  we 
think  only  of  his  intelligence  and  his  heart.  We 
scarcely  know  if  he  is  light  or  dark.  If  such  a  case 
as  you  mention  occurred,  we  should  be  doubly 
tender  and  affectionate — to  console  and  help  him. 

LANCY.    For  a  week. 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.     For  a  life-time. 

LANCY.  I  should  like  to  see  you  put  to  that 
test. 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.  If  I  were  only  sure  that  he 
would  not  succumb  to  the  test  I  am  preparing  for 
him! 

LANCY.    Who  ? 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.    The  man  I  am  expecting. 

LANCY.    You  still  insist  that  someone  is  coming? 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.  (Rising)  That  is  the 
reason  why  I  am  so — well,  this  flour!  I'm  going 


14  THE  POST  SCRIPTUM. 

to  tell  him  that  my  hair  has  turned  white  during 
his  absence,  and  that  I  must  now  powder  my  hair 
to  conceal  the  defect — the — what  did  you  call  it? 
Pepper ? 

LANCY.    And  salt. 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.  And  salt. — And  if  I  see  the 
least  sign  of  hesitation  in  his  eyes,  then  everything 
is  at  an  end.  (She  goes  toward  the  right} 

LANCY.    Are  you  sure  of  that? 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.    I  am  positive. 

LANCY.     Then,  will  you  allow  me  some  hope? 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.  No,  I  should  then  retire 
from  the  world  and  bury  myself  at  my  estate: 
Verliere. 

LANCY.  (Smiling}  Have  you  no  place  for  a 
friend  at  Verliere? 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.  Please  don't  joke  about  it. 
When  I  think  of  this  trick  I  am  going  to  play — ? 

LANCY.    Then  why  play  it? 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.    Ah ! 

LANCY.  But  will  you  at  least  allow  me  to  know 
the  result? 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.    Yes. 

(Enter  a  Servant.) 

SERVANT.  (Appearing  at  the  left)  Madame, 
Monsieur  de  Mauleon  is  here. 

LANCY.     (Aside)     Monsieur  de  Mauleon? 
MME.  DE  VERLIERE.    Good.    I'll  be  there  directly. 

(The  Servant  goes  out.) 

LANCY.  (Distantly)  It's  he?  Why  didn't  you 
tell  me  at  first  ?  I  should  have  gone  without  saying 
a  word. 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.  Why  so?  Do  you  know 
him? 

LANCY.    (Taking  his  hat,  which  lies  on  the  table) 


THE  POST  SCRIPTUM.  15 

Slightly.  I  only  know  that  he  is  a  consul,  that  he 
has  been  in  India  during  the  past  two  years. 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.    Well? 

LANCY.  You  are  a  widow — pardon  me.  (He 
goes  toward  door  at  the  right) 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.  Monsieur  de  Lancy!  (Pie 
stops}  I  don't  wish  you  to  misunderstand  about 
this  gentleman.  I  should  like  to  deserve  your 
esteem. 

LANCY.  You  are  too  good,  Madame. — Monsieur 
is  waiting. 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.  One  moment :  it  was  I  who 
asked  the  Minister  of  Foreign  Affairs  to  have 
Monsieur  de  Mauleon  sent  away. 

LANCY.  Well,  you  are  right  in  not  loving  me :  I 
don't  deserve  it.  I  have  offended  you. 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.  Yes,  but  you  didn't  displease 
me.  You  at  least  were  original  and  you  now  don't 
offer  to  do  the  conventional  thing.  That  shows  that 
my  reputation  means  something  to  you. 

LANCY.  (Going  toward  her)  Your  happiness, 
too,  take  my  word  for  it. 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.    I  believe  it. 

LANCY.  Then  may  I  ask  a  simple  question?  Do 
you  know  that  a  short  time  after  his  installation 
Monsieur  de  Mauleon  made  love  to  the  daughter 
of  a  rich  merchant? 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.    I  know  it.    What  then? 

LANCY.     If  you  know — well,  that  is  all. 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.  I  was  not  free  when  I  knew 
him.  Why  should  I  ask  him  to  sacrifice  his  life 
for  a  hopeless  love  ?  He  has  no  money ;  mar- 
riage is  part  of  his  career,  and  I  have  no  doubt  that 
that  marriage  he  tried  to  contract  would  have  taken 
place  had  he  not  been  so  heart-sick,  and  conse- 
quently so  careless  in  his  love-making. 

LANCY.  You  are  so  indulgent  that  I  find  it  hard 
to  explain  you. 


16  THE  POST  SCRIPTUM. 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.  You  are  so  severe  that  I 
can  explain  you  only  too  easily. 

LANCY.  I  must  admit  that  I  am  partial.  I  would 
give  a  great  deal  to  be  your  father  or  your  uncle 
for  five  minutes! 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.    But  you  are  not. 

LANCY.  So  I  remain  silent.  Good-by,  Madame, 
I  wish  you  all  happiness. 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.  And  I  wish  you  to  speak. 
Why  do  you  behave  this  way  about  a  man  whom 
you  scarcely  know? 

LANCY.  Scarcely — but  what  I  do  know  of  him 
is  characteristic.  I  acted  as  second  to  an  adversary 
of  his,  and  let  me  tell  you  that  we  were  not  the 
first  to  cry  "  Stop !  " 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.  Were  you  Monsieur  de 
Saint-Jean's  second? 

LANCY.    Then  you  know  about  the  affair? 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.  Everything.  Monsieur  de 
Mauleon  was  altogether  in  the  wrong;  he  wouldn't 
admit  it,  but  it  was  I  alone  who  made  him  offer  an 
excuse.  Nor  was  that  the  only  mark  of  affection  he 
gave  me.  I  felt  so  deeply  about  it,  that  it  became 
necessary  to  send  him  away.  You  are  rather 
unfortunate  in  your  method  of  attack,  my  poor 
Lancy — but,  you  are  right:  Monsieur  is  waiting! 
Good-by.  (She  goes  out) 

LANCY.  She  loves  him.  (A  pause}  Doubtless 
she  will  tell  him  of  her  trick  the  moment  she  has 
tried  it.  Why  should  I  wait  here?  For  the  wed- 
ding invitation?  (He  sits  down  by  the  fire-place. 
Another  pause)  Hope?  (He  rises)  Go  away?  I 
can't  stay  down-stairs,  while  they  are  having  their 
honeymoon  up  here!  No,  my  wood's  the  solitude 
of  the  country 

(After  a  few  moments,  during  which  LANCY  is 
plunged  in  meditation,  enter  MADAME  DE  VER- 
LIERE. She  enters  slowly,  not  seeing  LANCY, 


THE  POST  SCRIPTUM.  17 

who  is  at  the  left,  and  throws  a  visiting  card 
on  the  table.  Then  she  sits  in  her  chair  by 
the  fire-place.) 

LANCY.  (Aside)  Ah!  She  seems  so  thought- 
ful! (He  coughs) 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.  (Turning  around)  It's 
you! 

LANCY.  Back  so  soon?  Then,  did  Monsieur  de 
Mauleon 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.  (Preoccupied)  Oh  no. 
he  was  perfect.  Not  a  moment's  hesitation.  He 
even  thought  that  white  hair  was  more  becoming  to 
me. 

LANCY.  And  is  that  why  he  left  so  soon? 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.  I  asked  him  to  leave  me  to 
myself  for  a  little  while.  He  is  coming  again  this 
evening  for  tea.  After  this  strenuous  morning,  I 
must  pull  myself  together.  I'm  so  glad  to  find  you 
here  now. 

LANCY.  May  I  be  drawn  and  quartered  if  I 
know  why  I  am  here !  Good-by,  Madame. 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.  I  don't  want  you  to  go — 
not  in  the  least. 

LANCY.  Do  you  want  me  to  be  present  at  your 
triumph  ? 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.  My  triumph?  Ah,  yes,  I 
ought  to  be  the  happiest  of  women — but  I  am  al- 
most sad. 

LANCY.  Great  joy,  they  say,  is  nearly  as  trying 
as  great  sorrow. 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.  That  isn't  it,  it  is — all 
your  fault. 

LANCY.    Mine? 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.  What  you  have  said  about 
Monsieur  de  Mauleon  is  troubling  me  a  great  deal. 

LANCY.  I  am  more  troubled  than  you,  Madame. 
When  you  left  the  room,  I  began  looking  into  my 


18  THE  POST  SCRIPTUM. 

conscience,  and  to  blame  myself  for  saying  such 
things  as  I  did. 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.  Really?  Then  restore  my 
faith;  you  will  be  doing  me  a  great  service.  Sit 
down.  (LANCY  sits  on  a  chair  at  the  opposite  side 
of  the  fire-place,  his  back  half-turned  to  the  aud- 
ience) I  think  too  much  of  you  to  allow  myself  to 
think  well  of  a  man  who  has  not  your  good  opinion. 

LANCY.  (Resigned)  I  have  no  reason  to  refuse 
my  esteem  for  Monsieur  de  Mauleon. 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.  Now  I  can  breathe  again. 
And  that  love-affair  in  India ? 

LANCY.    You  said  it  yourself;  could  he ? 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.  Never  mind  what  I  said — 
what  do  you  think?  Only  tell  me  that  you  would 
have  behaved  as  Monsieur  de  Mauleon  did ;  that  will 
satisfy  me. 

LANCY.  I  would  have  acted  as  Monsieur  de 
Mauleon  did. 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.  At  the  end  of  three 
months  ? 

LANCY.    Time  has  nothing  to  do  with  it. 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.  Pardon  me:  either  Mon- 
sieur de  Mauleon  forgot  me  too  soon,  which  would 
be  most  ungallant 

LANCY.     His  return  proves  that  he  is  not  that. 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.  Or,  what  was  still  less 
gallant,  he  was  offering  a  heart  which  did  not  be- 
long to  him. 

LANCY.  You  should  not  blame  him  for  that !  At 
any  rate,  he  lost  his  courage  at  the  last  moment, 
because  the  marriage  never  took  place. 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.    But  did  he  prevent  it? 

LANCY.    Oh 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.  (Laughing)  It  was  his 
fault,  wasn't  it? 

LANCY.  Oh,  that  is  just  the  point  I  want  to  clear 
up — I  must  do  him  justice  on  this  point 


THE  POST  SCRIPTUM.  19 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.  Yet  his  duel  lessened  him  in 
your  eyes? 

LANCY.  You  see,  I  did  not  know  he  was  acting 
on  your  orders.  Now  I  agree  entirely  with  you. 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.  (A  little  put  out}  I  am 
delighted.  So,  my  dear  friend,  if  I  ordered  you  to 
make  excuses  under  similar  circumstances,  would 
you  do  it? 

LANCY.    Certainly. 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.  Would  you  even  put  your- 
self in  a  position  to  receive  orders  from  me  ?  Would 
you,  for  instance,  tell  me  beforehand  that  you  were 
going  to  fight  a  duel  ? 

LANCY.    Please,  Madame,  I  must  be  going! 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.    No,  no,  answer  me — please. 

LANCY.  (Embarrassed)  Monsieur  de  Mauleon 
is  not  very  careful  what  he  tells,  I  must  admit. 
Possibly  he  liked  the  idea  of  appearing  in  a  danger- 
ous position  before  you.  That's  no  crime,  of  course. 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.  But  he  must  have  known 
what  I  would  do? 

LANCY.  (Carefully)  He  was  making  the  great- 
est sacrifice  a  man  can  make  for  a  woman. 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.    Do  you  think  so? 

LANCY.  And  just  now  you  have  put  him  to  a 
conclusive  proof. 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.  Conclusive?  You  think 
so? 

LANCY.    Undoubtedly. 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.  You  should  keep  to  your 
opinions :  you  are  a  perfect  weathercock. 

LANCY.    How  do  you  make  that  out? 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.  Tell  me,  do  you  believe 
that  men  love  in  a  vastly  different  way  from  women  ? 

LANCY.    Oh,  you  know  I  am  a  brute. 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.  (Rising)  So  are  all  men 
— more  or  less.  So  that,  if  they  have  only  one  way 
of  loving,  and  if  Monsieur  de  Mauleon  does  not  love 


20  THE  POST  SCRIPTUM. 

me  that  way,  then  he  does  not  love  me  at  all.    You 
should  at  least  try  to  be  logical. 

LANCY.     How  quickly  you  argue! 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.  (Looking  at  herself  in  the 
mirror)  Then  isn't  it  extraordinary,  his  complete 
indifference  to  my — what  shall  I  say? 

LANCY.    Your  beauty. 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.  Yes.  If  I  possess  anything 
that  is  worth  looking  at,  it  is  my  hair.  I  hardly  think 
he  noticed  it. 

LANCY.     (Smiling')    He  loves  your  soul. 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.  Don't  make  fun! — And 
then,  if  he  doesn't  really  love,  just  see  what  I  must 
think? 

LANCY.    What  ? 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.  (Reseating  herself  opposite 
LANCY)  You  don't  seem  to  want  to  understand 
anything  to-day !  Didn't  I  tell  you  he  was  without 
a  fortune? 

LANCY.    You  are  blaming  him  for  it. 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.  Oh,  I  don't  know  what  I 
think !  I'm  so  nervous !  My  dear  Lancy,  you  were 
wishing  not  long  ago  you  were  a  relative.  Imagine 
that  you  are,  and  advise  me.  Please ! 

LANCY.    I  should  be  far  too  prejudiced. 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.     No.    You  are  the  incarna- 
tion of  loyalty.    I  will  obey  you  blindly. 
^LANCY.    I  advise  you  to  marry  me." 
*MME.  DE  VERLIERE.    I  didn't  ask  you  that. 

LANCY.    But  that  is  all  I  can  say. 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.  Tell  me  truly,  do  you  think 
he  loves  me? 

LANCY.    /  love  you  too  deeply  to  doubt  it. 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.  (Rises  impatiently,  goes 
across  to  the  table,  then  returns  quickly  to  LANCY) 
Well,  if  he  loves  me,  so  much  the  worse  for  him ; 
I  refuse  to  marry  him.  I  am  sorry  to  have  to  dis- 
agree with  you 


THE  POST  SCRIPTUM.  21 

LANCY.  (Rising)  Do  you  think  you  are  dis- 
agreeing with  me?  I  am  the  happiest  of  men. 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.  You  are  entirely  wrong, 
my  poor  Lancy,  for  I  refuse  to  marry  you  too.  I 
am  not  so  tircc!  of  my  widowhood  as  that.  If  you 
wish  to  remain  my  friend,  very  well,  if  not — 

LANCY.  I  do.  But,  tell  me,  if  I  had  nothing  to 
do  with  this  sudden  change  of  mind,  what  did 
Mauleon  have  to  do  with  it? 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.    I  have  told  you  everything. 

LANCY.  Everything?  Is  there  no  post-scriptur,i? 
Women  always  have  them. 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.  Not  the  faintest  shadow  of 
one.  (She  sits  dozvn  at  the  left  of  the  table)  Now, 
what  must  I  do?  I  am  not  consulting  you — you 
are  perfectly  horrid  to-day. 

LANCY.  A  woman  always  has  the  right  to  take 
back  her  word. 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.     I  have  never  given  mine. 

LANCY.     Not  just  a  few  minutes  ago? 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.  No.  I  don't  know  what 
instinctive  prudence  prevented  me,  though ! 

LANCY.  (Standing  at  the  opposite  side  of  the 
table}  Nothing  simpler:  he  is  coming  to  tea  this 
evening  and  then 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.    I  wish  he  wouldn't. 

LANCY.    Then  write  to  him. 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.  I've  written  to  him  too 
often. 

LANCY.     He  has  letters  from  you?    . 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.  Not  many,  and  they  are  not 
in  the  least  compromising. 

LANCY.    Return  his,  and  he  will  return  yours. 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.  (Looking  into  the  table 
drawer)  Here  are  his. 

LANCY.    Where  does  he  live? 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.  He  left  his  card — (She 
•points  to  the  card  on  the  table) 

LANCY.     (Takes  the  card,  goes  toward  the  door, 


22  THE  POST  SCRIPTUM. 

then  retraces  his  steps')  When  shall  I  see  you 
again  ? 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.    Will  you  come  to  tea? 

LANCY.     (Bowing')    With  pleasure. 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.  (Still  looking  through 
the  drawer)  Oh,  I  forgot  this  little  case.  Take  it 
with  the  letters. 

LANCY.     (Taking  the  case)    A  picture? 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.  No — a  lock  of  hair  he  sent 
me.  He  won't  be  sorry  to  have  it. 

LANCY.    Hasn't  he  any  now? 

MME.  DE  VERLIERE.  He's  as  bald  as  the  inside 
of  your  hand ! 

LANCY.  (Aside)  The  Post-scriptum!  (He 
goes  out) 

CURTAIN. 


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